Uproarium's Brightest

Chapter Eighteen: This Is Checkmate

I stepped inside the Lady's quarters, the atmosphere settling like a veil around me. A scent reached me, vanilla candles mixing with the cleanliness of chlorine. The curtains were a washed-out grey, contrasting the pink interior.

I watched as Martha Christhorn approached me, offering me more of that boiling chamomile tea. She was too kind, so once again, I didn't have it in me to refuse. I let my cup rest on the coffee table, the glass clinking under my grip.

The sharp tick of a grandfather clock echoed in the background, counting down the seconds. It felt like a waiting lounge; you'd expect elevator music to start playing.

"Have you gotten far with the thing I asked you to write?"

"It should be ready; I'm planning to spend my break writing any last details."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it."

"It's... nothing. I'm doing this... I'm doing this for Florence, she would've wanted for them to, to face justice." the maid tilted her head towards the ceiling, muttering a hushed prayer. Sniffing back the emerging tears, she rushed off to cloud herself with more work; to forget.

I let my legs swing at the end of the sofa, tapping my nails on the hand rest. I guessed Lady Silverguard really liked making those who seek her wait. Except, I wasn't here to court her- like many had once tried. There was no reason for her to stall this much.

"I don't know what I'm doing? Thomas you haven't helped one bit." The voice was muffled by the concrete wall, yet I assumed it weren't soundproof.

"Just stop whining Isa, for once. You were nothing before we got engaged." I wasn't taken aback by any means. Since the start, their relationship hadn't seemed exactly healthy to me.

"What does this have to do with anything Thomas! I wish you'd drop your childish games" Isa, as Lord Silverguard had called her, stormed out of their private chambers in anger, her footsteps rumbling like a thunderstorm. She paused, her fox-like eyes landing onto my figure. Her expression shifted into that of the familiar royal apathy- nose pinched and chin lifted up.

Picking up her skirts, Isadora sat on the armchair in front of me, scrutinizing me, The possible reason for my presence clawed at the corners of her mind.

"Detective..." she spoke, out of breath from arguing moments ago. "What brings you here?"

"It's about the investigation. I'm here to ask about Vlad Torres."

"Huh, what about him? Well, I never wanted to hire him I can tell you that.

"But you did, anyway?"

"He didn't expect a lot in return, just a place to stay."

"I see, now, when exactly did you hire him?"